Dace

Things always pick up in April. Tax season. Boo. But it also means that my annual opportunity to lend my head for modeling purposes comes around. And finally, after years and years of failed attempts and no-shows, B and I managed to do it together…ish.

Prior years here, here, and here, this year was much the same as my prior two stints with KPSS (home of Goldwell and KMS) – get up at an impossible hour, get dolled up, and head into Coquitlam for the 9 AM model call.



They do the whole walk-around, talking about hair thing and when the dust settled, I was sitting pretty with Goldwell and Janelle with FI Hair. They got to work, furiously colouring and poking at our heads, mixed in with some food and copious amounts of sitting around. Ah, the glamorous life of models. lol





After seven hours, we were set free into the world with newly-coloured hair and a promise to show up at the big show the next morning at 7:30 AM for the next part. Ugh. Our next stop was downtown…and, I’m slightly embarrassed to say, a concert filled with screaming teenage girls (and some teenage guys.) Pimples, everywhere. We showed up at the box office two hours before doors opened to buy tickets and discovered a line-up of girls down the street waiting to rush inside. Right. We went off and enjoyed a leisurely dinner and headed back to the theatre five minutes before the show started. Because if there is anything I’ve learned, it’s to show up before your band plays.



Curious about the screaming girls? They were there for their hometown heroes, These Kids Wear Crows. Why was I there? Because their bassist is my boss’s son and I was showing support. Cue the dance-pop brigade.





These blurry and shadowy photos were taken with my iPhone from my plush seat in the back row. Gosh, I think I may actually like shows where I can have a comfy seat and an unobstructed view. Three cheers for the Vogue and a non-sold-out show.

Fefe Dobson was up next, but it was obvious the crowd had cleared out somewhat. I tried to stay as long as I could, but the interest simply wore off as she played on. I can’t care. Plus I gotta be up early. Later days, Fefe.

The next mornings’ wake-up call was as brutal as expected. Starbucks-less, we drove, parked, hopped onto the Skytrain, and trudged up and down the necessary escalators into the giant exhibition hall.






Where are all the bajillion Sun-Runners? Not that I’m complaining…





As with other years, there were some *ahem* annoying models who thought that being in a hair show made them real models now. There was even one lady who appeared to think she was the star of the show and proceeded to take and post photos on Facebook of her and the admittedly (and obviously) gay stylists to make her boyfriend jealous (and I quote.) Fill your boots lady.


Hat hair. Literally.


Could someone be updating their Facebook? *Ahem*

B was on stage first and was the star of her segment. Of course she was!






Chotto rock style! Yeah!

Next up was me, way upstairs in the educational theatre…did I mention this entire trade show is on the harbour in Vancouver? Gah. It’s amazing.



Before picture:





Action shot


Everyone is being educated by my head. It is always a painful experience.



Thanks to some excess chatting my stylists part, my haircut never got finished in the session and so I had to trudge back down to the trade floor with puffy, partially-styled hair. At a hair show. Embarrassing! But he finished the cut when we got downstairs. The cut was called ‘Dace’ and was explained as a helmet cut with some bang fringe coming out the front of the helmet. Here’s the pro shot:



And my version…


Um…I wish they had made it wavy like in the photo. Whatever. But I like it!

After stocking up on lots of cheap hair goods, we bid farewell to the crew and headed out into the seaside air for some dinner food. Turns out that the sweet Rogue bar in the train station had half-price pizzas on Sunday. Yesssss





So, in conclusion, I would like to say that I’m happy that they didn’t cut me a mullet. Again. They always cut me a damn mullet. Although I’m sure my hair will grow into one. It likes to look like a mullet, I think. See you next year!

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Glastonbury Glamour

For the two of you out there who read my blog avidly, you will recall that each year I do a little gig called hair modeling. After much internal debate since last year’s show (which left me feeling incredibly out of the ‘tween loop), I decided that I would, at last, throw in the dye-stained towel. Well, then Janelle moved here and since we could do it together and I really needed a (free) haircut, I decided that I would once again put my head at the mercy of the fashionable, coiffing set.

After Janelle got picked at one modeling call and I was subsequently passed over for a pregnant lady with short curly hair (how horrendously offended I was), I though that perhaps now that I was a brunette, I was no longer useful. And then TIGI came along. Their immediate excitement over the mullet I was to receive (entitled ‘Glastonbury Glamour’) was palpable. I’m in!



This year, like last year, the show was held at the behemoth football stadium, BC Place.


I’m dreaming of a big haircut.

I was also thrilled with TIGI as I was able to wear my own clothes (take that, black pleather pants and ill-fitting Le Chateau camisoles!) so I brought out my Alexander McQueen dress specifically for the occasion. I was to be featured in their “Rockaholic” segment because I’m so rock. It’s true, you know.




Backstage during the Catwalk segment.


Here is me in my segment, looking rock-star like in my white cape. It’s pretty far off since Janelle took the picture from behind the giant crowd that had gathered in wonderment (at least the first part is true.)

I’m not really surprised I was the mullet candidate…they seem to cut me like that every year. The lady cutting told the crowd it was a modern mullet and you have to be a little wild to pull it off. People always think I’m the wild one.

After my segment and letting a bunch of strange people (stylists) feel up my head so that they could “see” the cut with their hands, I headed next door to Janelle’s stage.





Since it was barely noon and I was already done for the day, I did some shopping and then dropped off all my new cheap hair goods at the car.









Check out the new ‘do!


No quite visible, eh? I like it.



Janelle and I met up to compare heads.





After playing some DS and generally waiting, the finale of Janelle’s stage rolled around.




Eh…they have the same hair. Awkward.


I think this picture was taken right before their incredibly annoying rendition of “You’re the One that I Want” from Grease. Again, kind of awkward for me, the audience.

And just like that, it was done. Not very exciting, was it? Hey, I’m just here for the free haircut.

Due to the cheapness of the companies, no lunch was served – how bunk. So, accordingly, come dinner, we were hungry and went to our new favourite Japanese food place in the city, Junsei River.



Oh cheap, delicious sushi, I love thee!





So that’s it again for another year. I won’t say I’m not going to do it again because I’ll probably just end up lying again. Therefore, until next year…

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Hairy Canary

Oi I can’t believe that I haven’t blogged in a good long while again. How boring – I seem to start every blog this way. It’s kind of bad because today too I am going to be regaling my stories of the hair show…and I’m already going for a new dye job next week. Bad Erin! Let’s snap to it…

I was at my house one day…



…The end. Next story.

April 12 I headed into Vancouver for the model call for the annual ABA Show to model for the company KPSS. As usual, they wanted us there obscenely early in the AM for a Saturday and proceeded to make us wait for an hour while they debriefed the “real” models. Eventually they lined all us regular people up and started picking us like they would for a soccer team, Goldwell on one side, KMS on the other. Last year I modeled for Goldwell, who are known for their wild styles and outrageous colour. I was all ready for some outrageous when the nice man from KMS, Edwin, breezed up to me and thought I would be a good candidate for their California “natural” look. Um, what?! I guess so. I was thankfully the second one picked from the lineup, so I didn’t have to have the shame of being picked last. I was somewhat surprised to say the least, but I was happy to be chosen so I shut up and sat down on the KMS side.

After the picking, they started right into the prep work and I got my (non) lustrous locks dyed into a deep shade of brown. After over 10 years as a fairly consistent blonde, it was gone like that. After my stylists decided they received remote perfection (after six dye attempts), I was released into the wild, to return to BC Place tomorrow for the show where I was to get my hair lopped off during an on-stage segment.

Now free, I called up Jen to locate her whereabouts as I was going to be hanging out and crashing at her palace to get up at another obscene hour to make it downtown for the show. After an hour on the road from Coquitlam to Kitsilano Beach, I parked several blocks away and began to document my afternoon/evening adventures.








Kits beach!






Found you!

The day was basically amazing and warm and breezy so we lounged on the beach for hours (we being me, Jen, and her friend Harmony). We were near some super-annoying B’s who just talked on the phone with people about clubbing and how to land men – loudly.




My new mop-top.




Harmony and Jen















Eventually Chris came by after work and we headed back to Harmony’s apartment to briefly refresh before heading up to West 4th for dinner.






I’m not exactly sure what this is about. I don’t think Chris is either.


Oishii desu yo, ne? NE? Hai. Shimasu.

After a brief stop over at Capers, we headed back to Jen and Chris’s so I could get a bit of sleep for the real reason I was in the ‘Couv – to show my hair off in a grand fashion.


I was an official mannequin.

The companies usually request every model be inside the convention at 7 AM; as you may have guessed, I am a rebel and like to show up later since we aren’t going on until at least 10:00 AM anyways. I showed up around 8 and I still sat around for several hours as my segment only began at 11:30. Around, I bummed. The back was yammed full of model-types and one particularly douche-y girl (who I had first encountered last year and had some (extremely) inane conversations with) who brought her homie-lite styled boyfriend. Who ate our catered food when there was barely enough for everyone else….but I digress.




The Goldwell stage


On stage with my wet mop and my stylist, Josh.




There she is!! The ho-bag on the big screen is the bimbo with terrible lip liner who has haunted me two years in a row!


Horrifying “Mom” hairstyle and nasty Mariposa dress…but the cut was great with some Erin-style tweaking.

Josh was great enough to let me leave early (I think he felt sorry for me as I was antisocial with the young, brash crowd…and for good reason) so I hit up the various shops and purchased many a hair product for dirt cheap and packed up and headed on for another year.






A very obvious advert that men should be fixed. By Quantum.

So there you have it. I think this may have been my last go round…but I think I say that every year. I don’t think there is an age cap either…there was a lady chosen by Goldwell that was well into her ‘50s. Oh well. I have a year to think about it.

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